


hashtag same outfit

by saltysfeathers (saltyfeathers)



Series: hashtag relatable [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3695204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyfeathers/pseuds/saltysfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one with the same outfit.</p>
<p>on wednesdays we wear plaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hashtag same outfit

**Author's Note:**

> sorry sam

dean’s never had a wardrobe crisis in his life, mostly because he never had enough clothes to constitute a wardrobe, but also because “looking good” isn’t exactly part of a hunter’s job description. frankly, he didn’t think having a wardrobe malfunction was really a _thing_.

and then one day he walks into the library to see not just the one, but the _two_ other occupants in the room also wearing plaid. sam looks up as he walks in, and even the goliath with some of the ugliest shirts in the world (seriously, that striped orange one needs to _go_ ) seems to take note that something’s gone amiss here. cas looks up at the offended sound dean makes, and he frowns, caught off guard.

“my senses find this… incredibly displeasing,” cas says. he’s wearing one of dean’s old plaids, a soft black and white one that dean only gave up because cas is gross and endearing and dean likes to kiss him a lot. sam’s wearing a piece of shit plaid which is unsurprising because it’s sam. it’s a hideous blue and yellow, and it just confirms dean’s suspicions that sam dresses in the fucking dark with his eyes closed. dean’s wearing the red plaid shirt of angst and tbh fuck you because it looks great.

“I never thought I’d say this,” dean says, “but one of us is going to have to change.”

“I… don’t want to change.” sam says. he nods at cas. “we were here first, anyway. you should change.”

“no, since I’m here last that means I’ve had the least amount of time to wear it. first one here got the longest shift, so they should change.”

“that doesn’t make any sense, dean.”

“shut up, sam! no one asked for your plaid logic.”

sam gives a fuck you too shrug and looks at cas apologetically like, sorry im about to throw you under the bus, bro.

“he was here first,” he says. “sorry cas.”

“I don’t want to change,” cas says mildly.

And now dean’s stumped cause he doesn’t want cas to change either. he likes when cas wears his clothes. it makes his fingers tingle happily.

“well…” dean says, clearly stuck. “them’s the rules, cas,” he says mournfully.

“we could… we could try to work in harmony together.”

“dude we look like someone threw all of scotland in a blender. there’s no way im getting my research on like this.”

cas plucks at his sleeve.

“I like wearing your clothes,” he mumbles, and sam gets an “oh shit” look in his eyes, because sam’s found himself the victim more than once of assaulted eyeballs via dean and cas, and it usually begins when one of them starts in a tone like this, because it’ll inevitably make the other one melt, and then SAM melts- or, well, his eyeballs do, because as happy as he is for his brother and basically brother-in-law, the two of them being all deancas-y with each other is not something he needs to see ever.

“I CAN JUST LEAVE” he practically yells, knocking over a thick, hundred year old volume for good measure . “I CAN JUST… GO TO THE PUBLIC LIBRARY.”

“k cool bye sam.”

dean and cas are standing close now, leaning their heads together, and dean’s plucking at cas’ shirt, mumbling something to cas that has him smiling into dean’s jaw.

It’s cute, fine, but then sam realizes they’re going to get exactly zero work done if he leaves them on their own. he sighs because he’s a fucking martyr and picks up his giant volume off the floor and lets it drop again. dean and cas snap out of their bubble and dean glares at him.

“didn’t you say you were leaving like twenty minutes ago?”

“that was thirty seconds ago dean jesus christ.”

“sorry we don’t all have perfectly attuned body clocks like you, your highness.”

“I have a perfectly attuned body clock,” cas chimes in, and dean rolls his eyes.

“yeah cas we know.”

“well, you know dean because every night at 11:38 I do that thing with my tongue-”

“OKAY,” sam yells, “OKAY. PLEASE JUST. STOP. SIT DOWN.”

dean and cas sit down beside each other.

“aren’t you going to the library?” dean asks. “I thought you were going to the library.”

“omg. dean. I was, and now im not, ok? If I leave you two alone you’re probably going to soil the fucking books or something.”

“what, doing it on centuries old rare volumes?” dean snorts, sneaking a side glance at cas. “that doesn’t sound like us at all.”

“IM NOT GOING TO THE LIBRARY DEAN.”

“ok ok, keep your plaid on. actually, wait, don’t. then maybe we can solve this problem.”

“ _you_ lose the plaid,” sam snaps.

dean narrows his eyes at sam across the table.

“ok.” he says, and sam blanches, because he never ever wins an argument with dean this easily. “ok ill take my plaid off.” he stands up and takes a step away from the table, and sam watches, feeling like he may have just made a deal with the devil (and in the Winchester household, they do _not_ use that term lightly.)

“cas,” dean says, “you heard the man.”

mischief flashes in cas’ eyes as he stands up as well.

“of course,” he says. “it would be my pleasure.” he goes to stand behind dean and ever so slowly, reaches up to rest his hands on dean’s shoulders. he starts rubbing dean’s shoulders up and down, and to make things worse, both dean and cas- from over dean’s shoulder- are making direct eye contact with him the whole time.

“don’t do this to me,” sam says. “just cut your losses dean.”

 cas reaches around to dean’s front and with deft fingers, unbuttons dean’s top button. He quirks an eyebrow at sam.

“are you fucking kidding me” sam says.

cas undoes the second button.

“cas I thought we were friends,” sam says.

“we are friends, sam,” cas says smoothly as he undoes the third button. “but im also fucking your brother.”

“GUYS.” sam pleads. at least dean’s wearing a t-shirt under there.

“im just doing what you asked, sam,” dean says, winking.

“god. fuck.” sam starts piling his books up.

“aww you don’t have to leave,” dean says. “just change your ugly ass shirt.”

“you’re an ugly ass shirt, dean! goddammit. douchy. horny teenagers. for fuck’s sake.” he heads up the stairs towards the front door, flipping the bird over his shoulder as he goes.

“aren’t you going to tell us to get off your lawn?” dean calls after him.

“fuck you guys!!”

when they’re alone, dean snorts, buttoning his plaid back up.

“I’ll make him a super special sam salad for nerds or something,” he says, “cause im such a good brother.”

cas nods.

“of course,” he says gravely. “not many brothers would chase their siblings out of their house by having their significant other peel off articles of clothing.”

dean laughs.

“touche,” he says.

him and cas high five, and then they get back to work.

after kissing on top of the centuries old rare volumes for a little while.  


End file.
